Application
CHARACTER STATS:
Name: Remus John Lupin
Date of Birth: March 10, 1960
Occupation: Works in a Muggle bookshop, for the moment
Blood status: Half-blood
Former House: Gryffindor
Wand: Hawthorn, 11 ¼”,unicorn hair
Gringotts Vault: 137 (for appearances. Actually 711, shared with Sirius Black, at Sirius's insistence)
Familial and Spousal Units: Parents, John and Adelaide (“Addy”) Lupin; paternal grandmother, Mona Lupin (née McTavish); maternal grandfather, Frank Hall (Muggle).
HISTORY:
To begin with, Remus’s childhood was perfectly normal. He was raised in rural Yorkshire, near Wakefield, and was close to his parents and two living grandparents. Always a bright, happy little boy, he unfortunately proved to be too inquisitive for his own good a few months after his seventh birthday. Unbeknownst to him, his father had recently offended Fenrir Greyback in an anti-werewolf editorial to the Daily Prophet; it happened to coincide with Remus's newfound fascination with moon calves. (He read constantly as a child, and had a keen interest in animals, particularly magical creatures. Moon calves were just the latest; he’d been working his way through Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.) Against explicit parental instruction - that mischievous streak runs deeply - he snuck out of the house in search of the creatures and got much more than he’d bargained for. In the morning John and Addy found his bed empty and the window open; Remus himself was found hours later in a neighbor’s barn, unconscious and badly bitten. He still has the scars from the attack on his arm and chest, but the Healers said it was a miracle he survived at all. Weeks of care at St. Mungo’s and experimental treatments depleted what savings the Lupins had, but finances were the least of their worries from there on out. Social ostricization aside, the family was never the same. John, correctly assuming the cause and effect of his letter and the subsequent attack, and still carries the guilt for his son’s condition. They were always a quiet family before, but much moreso after that. [ETA: They don't, however, know who it was who bit Remus. He also knows nothing of his father's letter to the paper and has for a long time empathized with whoever attacked him, rather too generously assuming it to have been an accident.]
Remus had a rather lonely upbringing after the attack because of his condition (no wizarding parents in their right mind would let their children play with a werewolf, naturally) and it was an unexpected blessing when he received his Hogwarts letter. His natural curiosity always made him a good student - he loved academics, unabashedly - and his friendships with the other Marauders and Lily mean the world to him. [ETA: That friendship developed into something deeper with Sirius Black around Christmas of their seventh year at Hogwarts. After a great deal of denial and confusion on Remus's part, and who knows what on Sirius's, the two longtime friends started what's now a very solidly established romantic relationship. They've lived together since leaving school on the pretense of being flatmates, and are deeply, devotedly in love with one another. They have yet to tell anyone, even the other Marauders, and take pains to be sure it stays quiet. (He's even careful to let his clothes remain a little more worn than they really need be. With their jointly-held Gringotts account he could afford nicer, but on his meager salary it would raise questions.) It's a mutual decision - they've both got enough to be going on with without having to deal a potentially messy, painful coming-out on top of it. On the one hand he hates the continued lies to James and Peter, but is willing enough to dodge a fiasco to keep it up.]
All in all Remus almost feels guilty about it in light of how bad the war has gotten, but his life improved drastically once he started school, and until Dumbledore’s death he was happier than he’d ever been. The work situation is difficult, however. Since leaving Hogwarts he’s held and lost more jobs than he cares to admit, and if not for Sirius it would be a struggle to make ends meet. He refuses to ask for help from his family; they don’t have the extra money to give, and his pride wouldn’t allow him to do that anyway. He’s currently working in a Muggle bookshop, but it’s only a matter of time before that ends under accusations, as usual, of his skiving off work too often. He can rarely find positions in wizarding establishments due to the werewolf registry; conversely, it’s difficult to explain his frequent illness to Muggle employers. Consequently he’s been getting by on a hodge-podge of random jobs for which he’s overqualified and underpaid, but it’s enough to help make rent. His contribution is pittance, he knows, but that's a matter of pride as well and he insists on helping. Things have been better; the loss of Dumbledore hit Remus hard, and the political situation for werewolves is unspeakable, but he’s holding fast to what the Order stands for and to his friends. It’s enough.
PERSONALITY:
Remus is not the type who stands out in a crowd, nor would he want to be. Deeply private but friendly, he comes across as mild-mannered and harmless, which is partly true - he is very kind, and he routinely goes out of his way to be helpful. But he’s also got a sharp wit and a willingness to break the rules that once was put toward pranks and now serves him better on behalf of the Order. He belonged solidly in Gryffindor; he’s had to deal with a lot of personal hardship due to his lycanthropy, and society’s harsh reactions against werewolves have taught him to handle things with quiet dignity, grace, and wry humor. That doesn’t mean he’s immune to the prejudices of others. He’s just accepted it as a fact of life, and doesn’t really bother trying to change people’s opinions. If they say he’s a monster, alright; he knows who he is, and isn’t so downtrodden as to believe them, largely thanks to his youth and the influence of his friends.
He’s less brave within those friendships, however. The downside of being so often maligned is that Remus is rather too keen to be liked, and he gives those he cares about far too much leeway, forgives far too readily. He’s slow to anger, even when he should. On the other hand he’s also very slow to panic. He’s excellent under fire, and his quick wit is an asset in combat.
His intellectual curiosity hasn’t languished for being out of Hogwarts. Dangerous with a wand or not, he still has a tremendous soft spot for an old book and a nice cup of tea. He’s a study in contradictions: both a werewolf and unfailingly gentle, a fighter for the Order and still, at heart, quite comfortable with being a bit of a bookworm. And he does have a sense of humor - he rather enjoys teasing people when they don’t realize they’re being teased, albeit never in a mean-spirited way. There is a reason that Sirius, James and Peter are his best friends. That humor can also get a little self-deprecating; he’s aware of his short-comings, and has a habit of turning them to that end.
MENTAL:
This is largely what makes up for Remus’s health issues. He’s so very often ill, and not exactly built like a Beater, but he is highly intelligent. This counts in a few different ways: he’s academically gifted, but he’s also very quick on his feet, and far from naïve. Emotionally he’s very level; it takes a lot to shake him up, and most things just roll off his back. He does, however, have an unfortunate habit of bottling anger and self-doubt. It’s rare, but outbursts do happen when he shoves something down too hard for too long. He also harbors a lot of anxiety about the damage he’s capable of doing during full moons, and is in the position of continually having to face his worst fear. This has made him strong, emotionally, but it’s also probably contributed to his being rather more introverted than is healthy. As discussed above, his need to be liked can be a serious flaw at times.
He was notably less calm at the news of Albus’s death, and it was one of the rare exceptions to his characteristic reserve. He’d loved Dumbledore dearly, and felt that he owed him a great deal regarding his being allowed to attend Hogarts and the protection he was afforded there from discovery as a werewolf. His friends, his education, the fact that he isn’t neck-deep in Greyback’s insane factions - he credited all of that to Albus, and the loss shook Remus deeply. He doesn’t avoid discussing Albus in general, now, but his own feelings on the matter are strictly off-limits for conversation, even with his closest friends.
PHYSICAL:
Health problems are a factor. Being a werewolf for thirteen years takes a toll, and it shows. At the best of times he’s fine, certainly capable of holding his own, but he usually looks tired whether he actually is or not. (He’s found his generally sickly appearance to be an occasional advantage, actually - people underestimate those who look as though they aren’t a threat.) For about a week around the full moon, though, he’s completely out of commission. The transformations themselves aren’t so bad if his friends can manage to be with him, but things aren’t as simple as they were at Hogwarts, and Remus doesn’t expect them to be there every time anymore. Then it’s a matter of recovering from injuring himself, not just from the physical trauma of the transformation itself. Aside from physically healing, the whole process is draining, and it always takes him a good few days - at least - to get back on his feet. Since leaving school, Remus has reverted to how he used to control transformations as a child. It’s simple, if miserable - his parents’ house has a cellar, and stairs can be easily enough magicked away for the night.
[ETA: One of the only upshots of all of this is that he has, and always has had, a very high threshold for pain. Between acclimation, that Gryffindor courage, and his quick thinking (he's a skilled liar, he has to be), it would take rather a lot to get him to crack under torture. All the same, he's grateful it isn't something he's had to face.]
MAGICAL:
NEWT scores: DADA - O, Charms - O, History of Magic - O, Care of Magical Creatures - O, Ancient Runes - E, Transfiguration - E, Herbology - E, Potions - A. He put a tremendous amount of effort into his academics, despite knowing that grades wouldn’t make a good job any easier to come by; it was a point of pride, if not practicality.
Defensive magic is, and always has been, Remus’s strong suit. He’s got the requisite cool head for dealing with everything from curses to Dark creatures, and a knack for picking up counter spells easily. His quick thinking has kept him out of trouble in fire fights so far, and he knows enough defensive magic - much of it learned from reading outside of class, in school - to have a lot from which to draw. What’s more, he isn’t afraid to use powerful counter-curses when need be; he’s kind, but he’s no pushover (except, as discussed, to his friends).
The creature-oriented side of the subject fascinates him, too. Far from being put off by the myriad nasty little (and not so little) things that go bump in the night, they actually strike him as very interesting. He always saw it as similar to Care of Magical Creatures, but with an edge. He’s good with them - patient enough and academically-oriented enough not to take it personally when things like grindylows do what things like grindylows do, and get unpleasant.
He’s less adept at potions, and it’s a weak spot for him, magically. He just doesn’t have the talent for it that his friends do, particularly Lily - but then who does? - and only managed to scrape by in the NEWT-level class after pleading with McGonagall and lots of help from Sirius and James. He avoids making potions when he can; he’s a realist, and he knows what he’s not good at. No sense poisoning oneself through incompetence.
POLITICAL:
Remus is deeply, absolutely devoted to the cause of the Order and is in steadfast opposition to both the Death Eaters and Crouch’s administration. His grandfather is a Muggle, and Remus’s parents were careful to expose him to that side of life as well as to the Wizarding world. He’s no expert, but he’s comfortable with Muggles, and as far as he’s concerned the germophobic reaction toward them is nothing more than hearsay and tripe.
What’s more, he feels strongly about the right to personal freedoms, and finds Crouch’s hold on the country very disturbing. What Crouch touts as protection Remus sees as restriction, and within reason, he’ll do anything he can to help reverse the way things are going. The ‘within reason’ caveat is new; he’d have done literally anything asked of him by Albus, whatever his personal misgivings, without question. The same can’t be said now. He isn’t totally comfortable with Moody’s more militant approach, and while he understands the need to fight fire with fire, he was more at ease with Dumbledore’s temperate, reasoned philosophy in regard to the war. Moody hasn’t secured Remus’s trust the way Albus had, and he isn’t afraid to express his misgivings. His loyalty, though, is unshakeable, and if he voices concern it’s only out of his belief in what they’re doing.
The other political issue that’s personally very affective for him is the question of where werewolves stand in Wizarding society. Since being infected, Remus has faced severe discrimination almost universally once people know about his condition. Things weren’t always as bad as they are now, though, and the complete turn of most werewolves into uncivilized chaos has grave implications for him. It doesn’t matter that he would never steal, murder, intentionally bite anyone, turn to cannibalism - the perception of most of society is still that he’s a monster, inhuman, dangerous. He’s aware that he’s got precious few rights, in effect, and it impacts everything from his ability to find a job that isn’t degradingly below his qualifications to what would happen should he ever be arrested. He wishes, desperately, for better conditions, legal protections, and fair treatment for werewolves. He just doesn’t expect it to happen any time soon, and so he does the best he can to distance himself as much as possible from the hallmarks of what people think he is. It doesn’t mean it isn’t one of the few things that angers him. He can ignore individual prejudices; it’s the institutionalized persecution that infuriates him. [ETA: He is also, obviously, disgusted with the behavior of Greyback and his followers. He keeps a keen eye on news reports and rumors of the man's actions, but only for their sociopolitical ramifications, having no idea that he has a much closer personal connection to him than he's ever realized.]
In their own words, how would your character describe themselves?:
Well, that’s a bit of an awkward question, isn’t it? If you’re too complimentary you look arrogant and if you’re too modest you look like you’re trying not to look arrogant. I suppose if you really want to know, I read too much (according to some unnamed persons), I’m rather enjoying living in London, and I have incredible friends. Neutrally unarrogant enough?
TECHNICAL:
RP Account: looneyloopy.livejournal.com
PB: Sondre Lerche
Write a sample post:
*It’s an odd double life, Remus knows, this tentative balance he’s managing to strike. On the one hand is what he has at the moment: a chip buttie from the shop by Waterloo station, his lunch break from the job he’s grateful for. He’s sitting on the embankment steps by the Bankside Power Station, sun warm on his face, watching mudlarkers combing through the rocks by the water. It’s almost funny how peaceful it is, and Remus knows he adds to the picture, how he looks: just a poor young man with a cheap sandwich and battered trainers, nothing unusual, particularly in this part of London.
And then there’s the other half of his life, the half so far from this (derelict) urban idyll that it’s almost unbelievable. Moody’s got something or other planned for tonight - Remus hasn’t been told what, and he is not at ease with that. It’ll be a harsh move, he’s sure, and almost certainly violent. Now it’s all sunshine and seagulls; tonight will be curse blasts and danger and the always-present threat that not all of them will still be breathing at the end of it.
The oddest part is how little the contrast bothers him. It is what it is; later, he’ll be rushing into something, under-informed and willing to cause or face serious physical harm. Now - he glances at his grandfather’s pocket watch - he’s got ten minutes to get back to the silent, dusty bookshop with its waiting stack of obscure texts.
Standing and stretching, Remus watches the mudlarker for just a few moments more. It’s a nice day - he could just walk home after work, really, it wouldn’t be too -
“Oh, I beg your pardon, my dear boy, I’m so sorry - “
The old woman who’s tottering down the stairs past him to the bank overbalances, knocks into him; what’s left of his buttie goes tumbling down onto the brackish rocks below them, and even Remus isn’t hard-pressed enough to want it back, now. She keeps apologizing until he manages to steady her balance and gently override her protests that she’ll buy him lunch; he’s still hungry, honestly, but he has to get back to work, and he doesn’t need charity.*
No, ma’am, really, please. That’s very kind, but I’d finished with it anyway.